Torn Apart
by Eniko151
Summary: WandaXLoki Fanfiction. The ever mischievous Loki has to be kept in the avengers tower while Thor tries to figure out what to do with him. Will Clint ever be able to forgive and forget? Will Pietro ever recover from his terrible injuries? Will Wanda ever find out what is truly inside Loki's heart? And most importantly, will he ever understand the power of a mortals love?
1. Chapter 1

Wanda pressed the button in the elevator and the doors slid shut.

Clint, who was stood beside her, leant against the wall of the lift, narrowing his eyes at the floor as if he was thinking. Wanda knew better than to interrupt him when he had that face on. He fumbled around with an arrow, spinning the black stick skilfully in one hand.

They had just returned from training. Word from the doctor's on a higher floor had disrupted their progress and they had dropped the session to answer the call. Pietro had woken up.

After two whole weeks in an unresponsive coma, Pietro had decided to wake up at a rare moment when neither Wanda, nor Clint, was there with him. According to the doctors, he had panicked and they had thought it best to put him back to sleep.

The elevator made a soft ' _dinging_ ' noise and the doors opened again.

Wanda found herself face to face with a man. Thor stood beside him, his eyes set on the man as if he needing watching. His shoulder-length, jet-black hair was slicked back, so she could clearly see his entire face. He had pale, almost ghost-like skin, and his intelligent, green eyes locked with Wanda's. There was a metal muzzle covering his mouth and heavy-looking silver shackles around his wrists, connected with a short chain. His clothes looked regal and god-like, like Thor's, but his were coloured with black, gold and green.

Before anyone else could do anything, Clint had notched an arrow in his bow and had it pointed straight at the man's heart. The man didn't even flinch, simply flicking his gaze to the archer, which Wanda privately thought was extremely brave of him. And, even braver, she could swear he smiled- though she wasn't sure as his mouth was covered.

"Loki." Clint growled.

Wanda's eyes widened in shock. This was Loki? Thor's brother, Loki? The same Loki who had set an alien army on New York and basically tried to wipe out the entire city?

"Barton." Thor warned quietly, pulling Loki into the lift along with him. "Lower your weapon."

"What is he doing here?" Clint half-hissed the words through slightly gritted teeth, though he slung his bow back across his torso.

Loki couldn't speak but his eyes said everything. They seemed to be glittering with the words: _Nice to see you too Barton._ Maybe it was just Wanda's power picking up his thoughts, or maybe he was very good at talking with his eyes.

Thor pressed a number on the panel and the doors closed again. "He's being kept here until I decide what to do with him."

Green eyes flashed with anger and Wanda found herself hardly able to breathe at Loki's fury. Such rage coursed through his mind that she had to block out his thoughts.

"Take him back to Asgard." Clint murmured.

"They'll kill him."

"Good."

Thor sighed a little, shaking his head. "I know you don't like it Barton. Just give him a chance… Please?"

Clint glared at both Asgardians. "Keep him away from me… Or I _will_ kill him."

"Understood."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. It was the floor Pietro was being treated on. Clint briskly walked out of the lift and Wanda, flashing a last glance at Loki, followed him. Curiosity pulsed through her. Loki had an aura that she couldn't quite place. He radiated power and knowledge. His eyes… They were so sharp, so intelligent they took her breath away.

He was a mystery. And she was determined to solve him.


	2. Chapter 2

Wanda sat on the edge of Pietro's bed.

Clint approached more slowly. Pietro was asleep again, his bandaged chest rising and falling rhythmically, but a little too quickly for Clint's liking. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, the inside clouded every time he exhaled a breath. Clint walked to the other side of his bed, gently laying a hand to his chest. His heart was beating frantically.

They stayed beside Pietro's bed for a while, waiting for him to wake up again. To Clint's astonishment, after about half an hour, Wanda stood up.

"I'm sorry. I am tired." She excused herself quietly.

Clint frowned. She hardly ever left her brother but, Clint had noticed, she was looking beyond exhausted. Still, it was odd that she would leave Pietro simply to sleep, especially since he was due to wake up any time soon.

"Sure." The archer said, realising she was waiting for him to reply. "I'll sit with him while you rest."

Wanda nodded a little, though Clint could sense she was hiding something. He stubbornly banished the suspicion. _She's probably just worried about her brother._ Leaning down, Wanda stroked back Pietro's white hair and softly pressed her lips to his forehead. And with that, she turned around and walked out of the room.

Almost as soon as the door had shut behind her, Pietro turned his head to the side. A noise that was half-murmur, half-whimper, escaped his lips, as if he knew Wanda had left. Perhaps he did know. Or perhaps he was just having a nightmare. Clint moved his hand to the young man's forehead. Pietro thrashed a little and Clint softly caressed his hair.

"Shh… Shh…" He hushed quietly.

To his surprise, Pietro seemed to take comfort from his action, relaxing again. Clint put his hand back on his chest, so he could feel Pietro's heart. Suddenly, Pietro's hand flew to his chest, gripping Clint's arm. His eyes shot open and he frantically murmured something in Sokovian as he tried to sit up. Clint held him steady, gently forcing him to lie back down again.

"Hey, hey. Calm down kid." He muttered as Pietro continued to speak in his home language. Grappling with the young man with one arm, he used the other to carefully take the oxygen mask off his face and putting it beside him on the bed. "Calm it. You're safe… Safe."

"Wanda!" Pietro gasped out the name, desperately clawing at the archer's arm with wide, panic-stricken eyes. "Wanda…"

"Listen kid." Clint ordered, pinning the young man down. "You have to stay still alright, just keep calm."

Pietro's struggling gradually decreased but he still grasped Clint's arm as though his life depended on it. "Wanda…? Where's Wanda?"

"She's fine. She's just gone to get some rest."

Pietro shook his head a little. "Need her… Wouldn't leave me… I need… Need…"

Clint lay his hand over Pietro's mouth, silencing him. "Shhh…" He exhaled the noise, taking note of the fear in the young man's unfocused, blue irises. "It's okay." He assured him, making his voice clear and slow as he removed his hand. "It's alright. I can get her for you if… You…" His voice trailed off. "Pietro?"

The kid was stiffening a little, like he was trying to stop his body from shivering. Clint was about to ask if he was alright when Pietro's eyes rolled back in his head. His body began to shake and convulse uncontrollably. Recognising the signs, Clint leapt up, racing over to the door and calling for help. A few doctors answered his call, sprinting into the room and over to Pietro. Clint followed, standing a little way back as they tried to hold Pietro's shaking body down.

"Alright sweetheart…" One of them soothed gently, stroking Pietro's head as he started to relax. "Alright…"

A final shudder ran through his body and his eyes rolled forward again. Clint briefly caught sight of Pietro's blue eyes before his eyelids slipped shut and he fell still. A shared sigh of relief went up from the doctors.

"Did he have a seizure?" Clint asked quietly, moving to stand beside Pietro's bed.

One of the doctors nodded slightly. "I believe so… Possible epileptic fit." She looked to the others questioning and they nodded, agreeing. "He should wake up s-"

Pietro groaned a little and Clint went to sit beside him, tucking his hand beneath the kid's head and lifting it slightly. He whispered his name until Pietro opened his eyes. His gaze drifted around for a heartbeat before resting on Clint and he blinked drowsily.

"What happened?" He murmured, starting to try and sit up.

"Lie still." Clint ordered, holding him down. "You've had a seizure. You need to rest."

Pietro blinked slowly, as if trying to clear his sight. "Seizure…" He echoed, his gaze drifting and confused. "Rest…"

Clint's expression twitched in a brief frown but he quickly forced it back to normal. "Yeah." He put on his kindest voice for the kid; Pietro seemed to be finding it difficult to remember anything at the moment. "You want to close your eyes for me? Get some more sleep, hmm?"

Pietro didn't reply for a while, his eyes wandering around Clint's face before shifting to look around the room. "Where am I?" He suddenly murmured after a minute of silence, beginning to sit up with a twinge of panic in his eyes. "Where's Wanda?"

"Steady…" Clint warned quietly, beginning to push him back down again. "Steady. It's okay kid, you're back in the tower. You're safe. Wanda's safe. Everything's alright."

Pietro didn't try to struggle against him, allowing the archer to make him lie down. His eyelids started to slip a little, the drugs they were giving him through the IV obviously making it hard for him to stay awake. The kid was confused. Clint knew that.

He waited, keeping his hand on Pietro's chest until his eyes closed. His breathing gradually deepened as he fell asleep. But Clint couldn't bring himself to get up from the edge of his bed. He needed to make sure Pietro was alright, he needed to be here to calm him down if he woke up in a panic again.

He needed to begin trying to repay the endless debt he owed the kid.

It was going to take a while.


	3. Chapter 3

Wanda walked down the corridor, allowing her powers to guide her through the tower.

She didn't know where she was heading, lost in thought, until she waked into a door. Jumping in surprise, she took a step back, glancing around to check if anyone had seen as embarrassment rushed through her. She shook her head. _What's going on today?_

Putting a hand to the door handle, she attempted to open it. It was locked. Summoning her power, she touched the handle again, shrouding the metal in red smoke. There was a clicking noise as it unlocked and the door opened, allowing her to enter the room. She stepped inside, the door shutting behind her.

It was darker in here. There was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, sending a dim glow over the room. Despite the light, the room held a strange aura and, stiffening, Wanda realised where she had felt that before.

"What are you doing in here?"

Wanda spun around.

Loki seemed to melt from the shadows in the corner of the room. He almost radiated power, the curious intelligence of his deep green gaze making Wanda shiver inwardly. His eyes narrowed a little, as if he could guess what she was thinking.

"Who are you?" She asked, managing to find her voice again.

An echo of a smile crossed the man's face briefly. "I believe I asked you a question first… Let's do that. A question for a question. An answer for an answer… Now, why are you here?"

"To ask." Wanda replied simply. He laughed at that, the sound was both cold and warm at the same time. "Who are you?"

"I am Loki of Asgard." He began to slowly wander around the edge of the room. "I take it you know of Asgard. You have had to stay in the same building as the prattling _oaf_ that is my so-called 'brother'."

Wanda nodded, matching his pace as they circled each other, seeming to move slower than time ticked. "I do and I have."

"I pity you." Loki met her eyes again, his hands held behind his back. "You are an Avenger?"

She nodded again. "Yes."

"What power do you possess?"

Wanda was well aware that he had just asked two questions but she didn't want to point that out. Besides, he sounded genuinely interested. She fumbled with her hands, a kind of nervous twitch she got every time someone asked her about her abilities.

"It's complicated."

"Tell me."

She looked up at him. They were both still now, standing on opposite sides of the room. His expression was impossible to read. _I shouldn't be in here,_ Wanda briefly thought. _He's dangerous…_ Despite her mind telling her she should leave, her lips had other ideas and she found herself talking again.

"I can move things with my mind… I-I can look inside people's heads." Wanda explained quietly. "I can make them see things."

"What kind of things?" Loki asked, his voice taking- what Wanda almost analysed as- a gentle edge.

Wanda swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Nightmares."

Loki looked at her curiously. Wanda didn't realise he was moving before he was almost right in front of her, barely a metre of space between them. "This scares you." He murmured, moving closer to her. Wanda didn't answer, looking away from him as she found herself unexplainably ashamed. "Do not fear power. You should embrace it."

He slowly reached out to touch her hands but she instinctively pulled away. "I should go." She muttered, making her way towards the door. "My brother…" Her voice faltered and she shook her head.

"You have a brother?" Loki questioned.

Wanda turned to face him again. "Yes."

"You love him."

She frowned, tilting her head to the side a fraction. "Yes, of course I do. More than anything… He's my brother."

Loki lowered his eyes, his expression still unreadable. "Then why does he make you sad?"

Wanda stiffened a little. _How does he know my emotions?_ "It's not him who makes me sad." She corrected. "It's what happened to him… And how I didn't stop it."

* * *

"Pietro?"

Pietro's eyes fluttered open, raising his head off the pillow and blinking a few times to clear his sight. Wanda ran across the room to him, taking his face in her hands. He tried for a smile but it was almost definitely just a grimace.

"Oh Pietro…" Wanda whispered, stroking a hand to his head. "Môj drahý… I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." He admitted quietly, heaving himself up into a sitting position.

His sister swallowed back a sob and flung her arms around his neck. Pietro gasped with anguish and Wanda immediately drew away, whispering fervent apologies. Pietro shook his head dismissively, taking hold of her hands.

Clint, who was sat on the other side of the bed, smiled a little at their bond. Wanda caught him watching and managed to cast him a quick smile. The archer looked away guiltily. It was his fault Pietro was in this state. The kid had taken those bullets for him. And Clint would never forgive himself for Pietro almost dying for him.

"Wanda…" Pietro suddenly gasped her name, his breathing getting a little faster.

Clint looked back at him and realised he was shivering violently. He was having another seizure. _Definitely an epileptic fit,_ Clint told himself briefly. Moving almost completely on instinct, Clint knelt on the bed, gently forcing Pietro to lie down again. Fear-filled, blue eyes locked with his and he forced himself to stay very calm. He stroked Pietro's head as his irises rolled back, leaving only the white part of his eyes showing.

"Alright kid." Clint murmured, trying to hold Pietro's body still as he shuddered and spasmed. "Alright, it'll stop soon."

"What's happening?" Wanda whimpered fearfully, her eyes set on her thrashing brother. "Pietro?"

"Seizure." Clint muttered bluntly. It wasn't long before Pietro stopped shuddering and his eyes shut as he fell still. Clint gently caressed the side of his jaw, trying to rouse him. "Come on kid… Come on, wake up."

For a terrible minute or two, nothing happened. Then Pietro twitched and his eyes fluttered open. One hand went to his forehead and he groaned a little, obviously in pain. Wanda started towards him but Clint gestured for her to stop, holding his palm out in her direction for a second before turning his attention back to Pietro. He whispered the kid's name and almost immediately blue irises set on his eyes.

"Hey punk." Clint teased, forcing a twitch of a smile. "Remember me?"

Pietro nodded weakly. "Yeah…" He murmured, his voice weak and quiet. "Barton."

"You know where you are?"

"Tower."

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Pietro."

Clint smiled a little. "Good." He praised, helping Pietro to sit up and letting the kid lean on his shoulder until he recovered from the seizure. "Didn't have memory problems that time…"

"Yay." Pietro muttered sarcastically, provoking a breathy chuckle from Clint. The younger man sighed, turning his head so his forehead was resting on Clint's shoulder, and shut his eyes. "Am I going to be having seizures forever?"

"I don't know yet kid…"Clint murmured gently, moving a hand to stroke the back of Pietro's head. "But we- me and Wanda- we're both here for you if you need us. You don't have to deal with anything by yourself."

Wanda took a few steps forward, touching her brother's shoulder. "He's right drahý… Please, promise me you'll ask for help if you're struggling."

Pietro turned his head to look up at her, casting his sister a slight smile. "I promise. If I need help, you'll be the first to know."


	4. Chapter 4

"He's fitting again. Try to hold him still."

"I'm here Pietro, I'm right here with you. Just try to breathe for me drahý."

Pietro heaved in a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering open. Wanda smiled down at him, her hand to his forehead, stroking back his pale hair. His head rested on her lap; she sat cross-legged at the head of his bed. A weight was lifted from his legs and Pietro blinked drowsily, seeing Clint take a step away from him, seeming a little flustered.

"Wanda…" Pietro croaked, silently shocked at the weakness of his voice. "It's getting worse…"

"Shh… Hush Pietro, you mustn't say things like that." His sister murmured softly, gently smoothing back his hair. "You close your eyes now. Get some rest." She raised his hand, pressing her lips against his knuckles. "Sleep brother. You won't have nightmares, I promise."

Pietro blinked up at her. "Don't waste your power Wanda-"

"It's my power, I'll use it how I like." Wanda gave a slight smile in response to her brother's smirk. "Go to sleep." She whispered, a faint red glow surrounding her fingers. "I'll keep you safe, I promise."

Pietro blinked up at her. "I know." He replied, his voice soft with fondness.

Giving him a final smile, Wanda gently pressed her fingers against Pietro's left temple. The red mist seemed to sink into his head, his eyes fading into a scarlet glow before they shut completely. Pietro gave an almost silent, contented sigh, relaxing as Wanda's power sent him to sleep.

His sister gently ran her hand through his white hair, curling strands in her fingers as if to comfort him.

"Is there anything you can do?" Clint asked suddenly, making Wanda startle a little. She'd almost forgotten he was there. The archer sat beside her, looking down at Pietro anxiously. "For the seizures… I don't know how your power works but couldn't you…"

"I don't know how to stop him having them." Wanda said regretfully, turning her head back to fix her eyes on her sleeping brother. "Believe me, if I knew I'd have already done it…" She looked to Clint, her gaze mournful. "I hate it… I hate seeing him like this. He'll never show it or ever tell anyone, but I can see into his mind… He's so scared Clint. He's terrified."

Clint swallowed hard, looking down at the young man. He looked so peaceful now. So calm and content as he slept in his sister's arms. He reached out a hand, gently stroking Pietro's head, smoothing his white hair back.

"I'm here for him Wanda, for both of you." He murmured, glancing up at the young woman with a slight nod. "I swear on my life I'll help him through this, and I'll always be here if either of you need me."

She smiled, fingers tangled in her brother's hair. "Thank you Clint… We… We're lucky to have you looking out for us. I know we don't deserve it…"

"Wanda…" Clint cut her off, her eyes compassionate. "Do you remember what I told you in Sokovia? I told you if you went out that door, you were an avenger… And you came straight after me when I walked out to fight. And then your brother ran in front of a machine gun for me… You both deserve so much more than what I, or anyone else, can give you… You're good kids."

Wanda sighed but she didn't argue with him, gently shifting her brother off of her lap, laying him down beside her on the bed. She slipped off the edge of the bed, gazing down at Pietro, smiling slightly at his calm, sleeping expression. She stroked his hair back from his face, smoothing loose strands of white hair from his closed eyes.

"We should leave him to sleep." She murmured softly, glancing to Clint. "I need to take a walk."

Clint looked up, his eyes etched with compassion. "Do you want company? I know you're going through tough times at the moment-"

"No." Wanda answered, realising from Clint's surprised expression that she might have been a little too blunt. "Thank you Clint, but I need to be on my own."

* * *

"So you're magic?"

Loki smiled, as amused as ever at Wanda's confusion regarding his identity. "You may call it that, I suppose."

The young woman visited him every day, though it had only been a few days since Loki had been imprisoned in the tower. Loki wondered how long she would continue her daily visits for. No one had ever shown much interest in him before.

Now he was sat on the floor, back to the wall as he looked up at the young woman stood a couple of metres in front of him.

Wanda crossed her arms, coming very close to pouting as she stared at the Asgardian. "You suppose? You can either use magic or you can't." She strode over to him, steps growing more hesitant as she neared. "You said you can move things with your mind… Does that mean you're like me? Can you show people their fears?"

Shaking his head, Loki stood up, pushing himself off the wall and approaching her slowly. "No, I never learnt that… My mother never taught me that… I'm unsure if Asgardians have that power." Wanda took a few steps back towards the door as he came closer and he paused, standing still in the centre of the room and giving a small sad smile. "You still don't trust me?"

The young woman didn't answer immediately, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully and in slight confusion. "I don't know… You're in a cell. So-So surely that means you're dangerous…"

"Then why do you visit me?"

Wanda shrugged. "I don't know…" She repeated honestly. "You… You're a mystery. I can't see into your mind. The only time I can pick up your emotions is when you really try to show them… Your mind just seems to explode." She shook her head, as if banishing a strange thought. "When you talk about your magic… you mention your mother. She taught you, yes?"

"She did." Loki replied, his eyes glazing a little in memory, his voice taking a distant edge. "She taught me everything… She was-" His voice faltered and, swallowing uncomfortably, he turned away. "You should go."

Wanda frowned. "Loki-?"

"Just… Just don't…" Loki muttered, shaking his head.

His mother was a tender memory, too strong to be ignored, too painful to be acknowledged. But he couldn't risk breaking down now. If Wanda saw him like that she may never visit him again, and he would lose the only person who'd ever come close to liking him.

A hand brushed against his back, moving up to rest on his shoulder.

"You lost your mother, yes?" Wanda's soft voice murmured, filled with so much understanding Loki knew it was impossible for her to have not been through the same thing.

Instead of telling her to leave, or even lashing out, like he may have done if it was Thor trying to get him to open up, Loki nodded. "Yes… What about you?"

"Mine and Pietro's parents died when a bomb hit out apartment…" Wanda replied, hardly a trace of hesitation in her voice. "We were ten."

Turning around, Loki met her emerald eyes, making sure his gaze held compassion. He was truly touched that she would willingly share something like that with him. They hardly knew one another and, now they were sharing those kinds of memories, it made Loki wonder how two people could be so quickly comfortable around each other.

"I'm sorry." Loki murmured sympathetically. "That must have been difficult for you."

"It still is." Wanda commented quietly, but the sadness was expelled from her eyes as she continued. "But I have my brother. He can be a handful, sometimes it's like having a five year old to look after. He's so reckless and impulsive, and he never thinks before he does anything-" She firmly shut her mouth, shaking her head and letting out a slight, breathy laugh. "I'm sorry, I was talking too much."

The corner of Loki's mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. "You sound happy… when you talk about your brother."

"He makes me happy."

Loki's expression fell again and he looked to the side. "My brother's an idiot… He acts like such a child and everyone still believes him to be better than me."

There was silence for a moment and Wanda's answer was hesitant, slow when she finally spoke again. "Thor… Thor doesn't seem like a bad person… And I know he cares about you-"

"You have no idea what he's like." Loki did his best not to growl the words, the familiar feeling of rage building up inside him. "He's so _perfect_ , the _perfect_ son, _perfect_ warrior and I…" He looked away, voice dropping to a quieter tone. "I'm the misfit, the freak who never seemed to fit in. I was reading and learning while Thor and the others were out in the training grounds sparring. Even as children, I was always with our m…" His voice faltered again.

There was a long moment of silence and what happened next almost caused Loki to flinch. Wanda took hold of his hand. Wanda Maximoff was holding his hand. No one had ever done that, besides Frigga and maybe Thor when they were children. No one had dared to get that close to him.

Her smile was soft, compassionate, yet there was still an echo of uncertainty in her gaze, as if she wasn't sure how her action would be received. "You still grieve." She murmured gently, her thumb tracing along the back of Loki's pale hand. "I understand."

Loki closed his eyes. He couldn't help it; he had never felt such gentle tenderness in a single touch. He told himself he wasn't disappointed when Wanda drew away.

"I should go." She said, releasing his hand.

Loki gave a curt nod, letting his hand drop down to hang by his side. As she turned to leave, Wanda obviously noticed his slightly dejected expression, and cast him a soft smile over her shoulder.

"I'll come back." She promised gently. "Tomorrow. I'll come back."

He couldn't help the smile that touched his lips.

"I look forward to it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Kneel before me Barton."

Clint's eyes sharpened into a glare as his gaze locked with Loki's cruel stare. Green battled against grey, fighting simply with their eyes for the moment as Loki waited for the archer to submit to him.

The demigod raised his hand as he stepped forward, gripping Clint's jaw harshly and forcing his head up. "Kneel." He hissed against Clint's face, irises filling with rage as the man continued to stare at him in defiance. "It will not be you who suffers. Kneel!"

A growl of anger fell from his lips as Clint didn't move, and Loki shoved him back. With a snap of his fingers, the air shimmered beside him and Pietro seemed to fall through the darkness. The young man stumbled unsteadily, forced back upright when Loki's thin index finger pressed under his chin.

There was a flash of metal and a slender, curved knife was put to Pietro's throat.

"No!" Clint screamed as Loki gave him that terrible smile.

The blade slashed across Pietro's white neck, blood spurting from the wound. He choked out a startled yell, a hand whipping up to his throat, as he struggled in vain to stop the blood pouring from his neck, pulsing between his fingers.

His terror-stricken irises came to rest on Clint, who leaped forward to catch the kid as he swayed. Pietro collapsed into his arms and Clint knelt to ease his fall, staring down helplessly as crimson oozed from the tear in his neck. Blood welled between his parted lips and Pietro's throat convulsed over and over, thick streams of scarlet melting down the side of his jaw.

Pietro spluttered, mouth open but filled with a thick pool of red. Clint was forced to watch as the kid drowned in his own blood, a few desperate, gurgling chokes emitting from Pietro's throat before his eyes glazed, dozens of small bubbles of blood growing and bursting at his lips as the breath left him.

His chest stilled, no longer did he heave for air. The blood streaming from the corner of his mouth was unaided by breath or Pietro's struggles, falling down to stain the porcelain skin of its own accord.

Red.

The colour danced in Clint's vision, fogging over his eyes. The sharp, salt-ridden scent of blood smothered his sense, a hint of copper touching his tongue.

Blood.

There was so much blood...

* * *

Clint's eyes snapped open with a gasp.

He lay on his back, splayed out on the hard floor, a white ceiling stretching out above him. _Dream,_ he told himself quickly. _Just a dream._ But no, the noise was there still. That strangled choking was still in Clint's ears and he snapped his gaze to the side, scrambling to his knees at the sight before him.

Pietro lay seizing on the floor, on his back, while his body convulsed erratically. His eyes were squeezed shut, mouth open, and he seemed to be trying and failing to gasp for air.

"Kid!" Clint exclaimed, bracing him hands against Pietro's chest.

He attempted to hold the young man still, but quickly realised the sounds were due to Pietro choking on his own tongue. God knows this was far too similar to Clint's nightmare for him to think coherently; he had to silently repeated instructions to himself. _Turn him to his side, Barton. Come on, you useless idiot. He's choking, get him on his side._

As gently, but as fast, as possible, Clint rolled Pietro to his side, sparing a hand to brace to the side of Pietro's jaw, holding his head still as the kid's muscles seized beneath his other hand. It seemed to continue for far too long, but Pietro eventually fell still.

He stirred almost immediately and Clint released his grip as the kid turned his head to gaze up at him. His throat convulsed weakly, sitting up and a slight cough causing him to pant faintly.

"Are you okay…?"

Clint's eyes narrowed, jaw twitching with grief and he shot forward. He felt Pietro's shoulders tense up but he didn't let go. Arms wrapped around Pietro's shoulders, he turned his face down slightly, biting his lower lip to force his emotions back.

There was a breeze of a touch and then Clint felt a hand on the back of his head, Pietro's fingers stroking his hair.

"You were dreaming, Barton…" He whispered kindly. "It's okay, it was just a dream."

Clint took in a deep, silent breath. This boy, this brave, brave child had just experienced yet another seizure and almost as soon as it had ended, he asked if Clint Barton, of all people, was okay. He then continued to soothe the archer after a nightmare. How was it possible to both hate someone as a punk-ass kid and love them as a son?

Clearing his throat slightly, Clint extracted himself from Pietro. "Are you alright?"

Pietro nodded faintly. "I.. Yeah, I'm fine but I…" He paused, glancing to Clint's eyes briefly. "I thought you... I don't even know. You were twitching and panting and yelling and I couldn't wake you up."

Clint closed his eyes, dropping his head for a second. "That's why you starting fitting…" He mumbled, raising his head to look at Pietro again. "You can't get stressed like that again, Pietro. You know the doctors told you it can set off your epilepsy."

"Was I just supposed to watch you?" Pietro retorted, frowning. "You expected me to sit calmly and watch you, listen to you scr- uh!"

He hunched over, clutching a hand to his stomach and gasping quietly, his teeth clenched tightly.

"Pietro!" Clint exclaimed, gripping his shoulders. "Kid, are you alright?"

Pietro shook his head, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. "It… It hurts… I…" He suddenly leaned to the side, throat convulsing as he retched violently, vomiting watery bile onto the floor.

Clint laid a hand to his back, shifting behind him slightly, rubbing circles above his spine. "Alright, okay kid. It'll stop soon, it's gonna be okay." He desperately glanced in the direction of the door. "I need some help in here!"

Mere seconds passed before a few doctors rushed into the room and Pietro let out an exhausted sigh, falling back against Clint's chest. The archer held him, smoothing white locks of hair back from his forehead as his eyes closed, lips flaring as he breathlessly gasped for air. Pietro pushed the doctors away when they tried to touch him, groaning faintly.

"Kid, you need to let them help you." Clint murmured softly.

Pietro grimace weakly, shaking his head and Clint sighed deeply, gently taking the young man in his arms. Cradling Pietro against his chest, Clint rose to his feet, carefully making his way to the bed and laying Pietro back against the pillows. His gaze flitted to Pietro's chest, noting the ragged, erratic breaths, the clenched jaw, the small, anguished sounds escaping Pietro's lips.

"He needs morphine." He pointed out, glancing to a doctor.

The man shook his head, reaching over to inspect Pietro's eyes. "I'm not sure we can do that."

"What do you mean?" Clint ordered, anger clenching his fists. "He's in pain, damnit, help him!"

"He's showing symptoms of morphine withdrawal." The doctor informed, gently pulling Pietro's eyelid up, shining a small torch to the irises. "Pupils are dilated, heartrate increasing. Right, Pietro.." The doctor pulled back slightly to attach and oxygen mask to one of the tanks. "Pietro, we're going to put you to sleep now, okay? We'll try to make the pain stop."

Pietro's eyes were closing even before the doctor fitted the mask on. His fading irises flitted to Clint and he moaned softly, lifting his hand in the archer's direction. Clint's eyebrows jumped, briefly surprised, but he quickly forced his lips into a slanted smile, sitting on the edge of the bed and gripping Pietro's hand.

"Sleep, kid.." He murmured quietly, noting Pietro's drooping eyelids. "Doctors are gonna get you better."

"Stay…" Pietro whispered, his eyes closing, hand slackening what weak held it had on Clint's.. "Please…"

Clint watched with eyes narrowed in sympathy as the kid let out a small, exhausted sigh and slipped out of consciousness. He squeezed Pietro's hand, laying it down to rest over the young man's stomach.

"Sure, kid…" He murmured, although he knew Pietro wouldn't be able to hear him.

Pietro's heavy breathing clouded the inside of the mask, his chest rising and falling in synchronisation. Clint reached forward and smoothed loose strands of white hair from Pietro's forehead, tucking long locks behind his ears.

"I'll stay with you…"


End file.
